Thank you, Delilah, for hosting me on your blog today. I’m very excited to be here.

One question I get asked a lot is how I come up with my story ideas. Some are based on experiences, things I see or read, and some are based on my family.

I was so excited when my first book was published. I had worked hard on it with my editor. It was a very proud moment when I saw it on Amazon. It was a time travel romance with a handsome druid knight and modern history professor. Everyone loved the book except one reviewer. I read and re-read the critique and finally realized only a small part of the review was about the story, the rest was a personal attack. Devastated, I spoke to a good friend. A day later I had an email from a very well-published author who talked to me about reviews.

How did I turn that into a story? I used some of that review in the opening to my book Happily Ever After. Well-published author Beth Alexander has fallen off all the list and blames it on a bad review that has gone viral and the new author JD Watson, who has replaced her. She has no idea JD is the man romance covers are made of. He may have been the cause of her fall from literary stardom but only until he became her salvation!

One of my stories is about my brother and his wife. They had been married for ten years when they discovered their marriage had never been registered. Their second wedding was wonderful, but it got me thinking about what I could do with that storyline. You can find Alan and Eloise’s story—yes, I used their real first names—in How to Marry a Stuart Brother.

My most recent story, Heart of the Matter, also comes from a family incident. My mother left me her small bible that was handed down in the family. It had a beautiful mother of pearl cover. I was looking through it and found a letter. It was addressed to my mother but wasn’t in my father’s distinctive handwriting.

This was a story begging to be written. This is truly a love story that just in time for Valentine’s Day.

Heart of the Matter

Digging into the past can be murder…

Addison Moore, a well-known psychiatrist, is having difficulty coming to terms with the death of her grandmother Cookie. The woman was everything to her after her parents died in the plane crash over Lockerbie, Scotland. Little did Addy know that an old picture, tucked away in the family bible of Cookie with a handsome stranger would lead her to a discovery for which she is little prepared.

Ethan Taylor is an art historian. He’s lived with his Great Uncle Ben for a long time and would do anything for him. He never anticipated that Ben’s dying wish would introduce him to Ben’s biggest sacrifice.

Neither Addy nor Ethan are prepared for the lengths at which their families went through to keep Cookie and Ben apart. As they try to put the pieces together, they uncover a decade’s old unsolved murder implicating Cookie and Ben. Will Addy and Ethan’s blossoming love be able to stand the strain of finding the truth? Will they be able to overcome their own matters of the heart?

Excerpt from Heart of the Matter

Havenport, Rhode Island
September, 2019

The dull thud of earth hitting the casket again and again tore at Addy’s heart. Generations of Foxes filled the small family cemetery. Some died well into their old age while others died much before they ever lived, the youngest only nineteen days. Addison Moore looked out over the low wall surrounding the family graves, past the cliff, to the ocean beyond. The beauty of the day and the sailboats gliding across the water was lost on her. Addy gaped at the shovel in her hand then the half-covered casket. A movement to her right made her turn. She faced a lone man standing across the grave, bowed in reverence. She didn’t want to interrupt but couldn’t pull her gaze away. He straightened, raised his head, and she stared into the most compelling gray eyes she’d ever seen. The mingled expression of eagerness and tenderness momentarily blurred her pain, but nothing could ease her grief. Her chest tightened. She struggled for breath against lungs unwilling to operate. Beads of sweat dampened her forehead. Her pounding heart echoed in her ears. Again, she tried to take a breath. Nothing.

“Stay calm. Open your mouth,” the man demanded.

But nothing went in or came out. Breathe, damn it! The silent scream echoed in her head. Her lungs burned for air.

Her eyes flew open. Her breath stuttered. One gasp followed another. Addy gaped at the book in her hand, not quite comprehending what she held. A quick glance at the room and the cobwebs cleared. She was alone. Her body sank deeper into the overstuffed chair. Her tension eased. She took a calming breath and let the life-giving air fill her lungs. Home. Her panic subsided and details of the library came into view. The safety of her family’s old Victorian house, Fox Hole Manor, held her close.

The memory faded until it became a lost dream. Only fragments of the disconnected emotional panic permeated her psyche. She rose and put the psychology book, The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg, in one of the many boxes scattered around the room. The bookcase with several empty shelves stared back at her like a boxer’s smile with several missing teeth. She made progress, slow, but progress nonetheless.

The hint of ginger floating on the dusty air made her turn toward the hall. A smile spread across her face. Her grandmother. Many people would expect a robust woman with gray hair, and perhaps an apron and the aroma of freshly baked apple pie coming from the kitchen. Not Addy’s grandmother, who stood tall, sleek, a well-dressed woman with short light auburn hair streaked with silver, and sporting only a touch of make-up.

“Make sure the shelves are dusted and the floor swept. I don’t want the historical society to think I didn’t keep a clean house. Besides, you never know when company may arrive.”

Everything had a place in Cookie’s house, including the twist ties lined up in the kitchen drawer. The woman kept every book, note, piece of paper, everything. Cookie considered herself organized, not compulsive. More often than not, their ongoing discussion, with examples, brought them both to tears.

Fox Hole Manor was one of the oldest homes on Manor Road, an area where the old guard lived in their grand mansions, an extension of the magnificent estates across the causeway in Newport. The children of each generation found a closeness and a tie that lasted a lifetime. They were civic-minded and politically active, with Havenport at the heart and soul of it all.

All those years ago, Edythe Emerson, of the annual Halloween Masquerade Ball fame, and Cookie rallied the other residents on Manor Road and established the Manor Road Christmas Cookie Exchange. One hundred percent of the proceeds went to the Havenport Historical Society.

Nothing was done small on Manor Road, not even the annual Christmas Cookie Exchange. Cookie and Edythe decided on the themes for their houses and each year added touches and refined the décor. The Emersons decided on an elegant Victorian Christmas. Her grandmother branded her event Cups and Cookies at Cookie’s, which brought peals of laughter from everyone. Her grandmother put her heart and soul into decorating the house and handled this event with the same attention. Each meticulously decorated room on the tour represented a different faith’s winter celebration.

Hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon and pungent ginger cookies greeted each visitor entering the Garden Room. The cups and cookies were always arranged on the table with precision. Yes. Everything had its place. No one would ever accuse her grandmother of a messy house.

The outside of the house, with its welcoming front porch and strategically placed flowerpots in place of railings, was just as important to Cookie as the inside and made Fox Hole Manor at Christmas a mecca for tourists. A must-see stop during the holidays. People came to watch the live deer that magically stayed on the lawn, the 1936 red Cadillac convertible filled with wrapped gifts parked outside the front door in the circular drive, and hear holiday music playing from strategically hidden speakers.

“I’ll make sure everything is neat and clean,” Addy said. “Is there anything else?”

“Concerning yesterday,” Cookie said.

She gave her grandmother a withering glance.

“There’s a finality in shoveling dirt onto the casket. The task takes a lot of love. I’m proud of you. All-in-all, the funeral was well-attended.”

Addy shuddered and searched for her cup of tea without success. “Please find another topic. This one creeps me out.”

Cookie raised a finely shaped eyebrow. “Should we discuss you finding a husband?”

Addy’s eyes welled up.

“So you made a bad choice. Live and learn. I think you should have waited. Neither of you knew each other very long.”

“We lived together for two years. I thought we knew each other very well.”

Another of Cookie’s stares meant to intimidate almost comforted her.

“You came to your senses before the wedding.”

Addie came to her senses a year ago. Her grandmother had it right, as usual. Don’t settle. Wait for the right man.

“It’s time for you to move on. Find your destiny.” Cookie leaned against the door frame. “What’s-his-name was an okay guy. I even liked him until you rushed here and cried in my arms. Afterwards, I pretty much hated him. Has he stopped calling you?”

“Yes,” Addy lied.

Cookie gave her a stink eye.

“Why the evil eye?” she asked, sounding like a high school teenager.

“You are aware Kenneth doesn’t believe the two of you are over. He doesn’t think sleeping with his secretary for the last year of your relationship has anything to do with you. The very obtuse boy thinks you have cold feet, not a cold heart, and doesn’t believe you’ll ever find a better man than him.” Her grandmother’s voice was quiet, but deadly. “I’m holding you to your promise. You’ll wait for the right man. Are you listening to me? Not just any man, not an okay man. The right man. Your destiny.”

Addy nodded. The words were etched in her brain, Cookie said them so often, even well before Kenneth Kendall made it into her diary.

“Was Grandpa Sky the right man?” She could play the deflect game, too.

Cookie smiled one of those wistful smiles loaded with silent meaning, said nothing and headed down the hall.

Addy followed, intent on getting an answer. She entered the kitchen. Empty. Her heart sank. Last Friday’s paper sat on the table next to her cold half-empty cup of tea.

“This is the story of Dr. Jessica Fox Jordan. Jessica was a wonderful woman who was loved, is missed, and will always be cherished. Called “Cookie,” by her only granddaughter, Addison Moore and a privileged few close friends, “Honey,” by her husband Skylar, and Jessie to everyone else, was an amazing wife, mother, grandmother, psychiatrist, and baker of the most amazing cookies. No one could bake a better ginger cookie than Jessica. Attendance at Fox Hole Manor for the Manor Road Christmas Cookie Exchange proves my point. Jessica Fox Jordan was the only child of Madison and Mildred Fox. Madison Fox was the colorful and flamboyant founder of the privately-owned Fox Brewery. Jessica is predeceased by her husband, Skylar; her daughter, Agatha Jordan Moore; and son-in-law, Phillip Moore. She is survived by her granddaughter, Addison Moore.”

The sense of loss hit her hard all over again.

“I miss you, Cookie.” A nervous laugh sounding more like a croak escaped her lips. “I’m not ready to let you go.”

Buy Link: Amazon Kindle Unlimited 

Psst! Just a reminder that there are three contests still running…
Enter while you can!

So, I’m still buried in “stuff” in my new office area. My desk is still a disaster, but I will tackle that today. In the meantime, my dd is tackling her massive move, ten boxes at a time. She fills boxes at her place, brings them over, puts the stuff away, then takes them back for the next load. Of course, she’s still moving around the furnishings that remained in the house to suit the new arrangement for her children. Since I’m old (**cough**), I’m excused from helping her move her things. But I do things like dishes that need to run through the dishwasher before they’re put away in the cabinets, laundry, etc.—and my workload, since my job still has to be done.

While all that chaos is happening around me, Brian is shaping up. I’m offering you a peek inside the first scene of the book, so you get to meet Brian before he was injured. I hope you like it, and again, if you haven’t already pre-ordered the book, here’s the link: Brian.

I’d love your feedback. I’ll think about offering up an excerpt from Raydeen’s point of view soon as well. Remember, the book releases February 24th!

Brian

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

Physical Therapist, Raydeen Pickering, has seen her fill of stubborn veterans, some too angry to get on with their lives, some still living in hell in their minds, and some unwilling to let their broken bodies hold them back. She hasn’t figured out which Brian Cobb is yet. The first time she met the handsome, wheelchair-bound man, he was wary and defensive, his gaze always sliding toward the door, looking for a quick escape from the Soldiers’ Sanctuary meetings.

Even now, there’s something about the ex-Army MP, now bounty hunter wrangler, that sets him apart from the other men she’s helped mend. There’s something more–not just the haunted look in his eyes or the still set of his shoulders. The way he looks at her when he thinks her attention is elsewhere gives her hope that she’ll reach him, and that he’ll let her help him regain more of what he’s lost.

First though, he has to figure out he’s in love with the wrong woman. The one he needs is right here, and if she has to do the chasing, so be it, because those looks he gives her have rekindled a fire she thought was lost forever…

Excerpt from Brian…

Sweat trickled down the sides of Brian Cobb’s face. His helmet felt heavy on his head, his pack dragged on his shoulders, and his boots were so hot he was walking in pools of water. The transport vehicles his squad had been promised hadn’t arrived, so they were hoofing it back to camp with half a dozen prisoners chained in a line. Still, their plight was better than the infantry platoon’s they’d left a click back. Once they’d given the ISIS fighters into Military Police custody, they’d headed back to continue their sweep for insurgents hiding inside the village with the unpronounceable name.

“Hey, Corncob,” Private First Class Benny Sanders said as he walked beside him.

“You know I hate that nickname, Sanders,” Brian muttered.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, his smile stretching across his dark face. Benny jerked his chin toward the slender figure striding ahead of the chained prisoners, her dog Tessa walking, unleashed by her side. “I see how you look at her. Are you and she…?”

Brian gave Benny a glare. “No. We’re just friends.”

“She have a boyfriend back in the States or something?”

“No, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Huh. Just thought since you two spend so much time together…”

Brian shook his head. “We’re friends. We hang. That’s all.” Not that he would mind if their friendship grew into something more. He’d had a thing for Jamie Burke since they’d met during their first drill together back in Kalispell, for what felt like eons ago. Jamie was certainly easy on the eyes with her wheat-blonde hair, lightly tanned skin, and golden-brown eyes.

However much he might have wished it otherwise, Jamie had assigned him to the “friend zone”—and because he valued their friendship, he’d never acted upon his attraction. Perhaps once they were back Stateside, he’d work up the courage to ask her out.

He’d played a multitude of scenarios in his mind of how he’d go about doing it without blowing their friendship to hell should she shoot him down. Not one of them felt like the right fit. Sure, they had lots in common—they loved playing basketball and soccer, liked working out, liked animals, were both from western Montana…

Well, maybe they didn’t have that much in common, but they could certainly build on what they shared now. Maybe he needed to figure out what she liked to do outside of the military, what her hobbies were, whether she liked to dance.

He liked to dance. He could imagine asking her out for a beer, just buddies going for a drink together. The music would start up, and he’d hike an eyebrow. She’d give a laugh and say something like, “If you don’t mind me stepping all over your toes,” and he’d lead her to the floor. Once he held her in his arms, maybe then she’d see him as someone she could consider as dating material…

Ahead, Tessa gave a whine and moved away from Jamie, her nose going to the ground as she searched the trail they walked, moving from one side to the other.

They’d left the village and were following a well-traveled trail that led through rocky hills. The area had been cleared of enemy combatants, so they’d been ordered to march the prisoners back. Still, the danger didn’t have to come from a sniper on a hilltop.

Jamie held up her closed fist, and the squad drew to a halt. Brian looked to his left. “Benny, keep an eye out,” he said, indicating the hills behind them.

The squad leader, Sergeant Milligan, strode up to Jamie. “What’s the holdup, Burke?”

“Don’t know yet, Sarge,” she said. “Tessa hasn’t indicated yet.”

Tessa moved ahead of the formation but lifted her nose from the trail and ran back to Jamie, her tail wagging.

Tessa reached down to give her a pat. “Must have had a whiff of something, but I think we’re cool to move on.”

However, Tessa gave another whine and sniffed the air. A moment later, she left Jamie’s side again, this time heading down the row of prisoners toward Brian, her nose to the ground, sniffing the trail then moving slightly off it to Brian’s right. She whined and moved closer to Brian.

Brian glanced around him. Tessa was a trained bomb dog. An IED might be nearby. But where? The rocky outcropping beside him caught his eye.

“Cobb!” Benny whispered.

He turned to glance at Benny, whose eyes were large. He tilted his head toward a hillside in the distance. Brian didn’t glance at it directly. “You see something?”

“A glint. Then some movement. Might be one tango.”

Brian had a bad feeling. “Jamie, call your dog back,” he said, keeping his voice natural, “I think we’ve got company.”

Sergeant Milligan began moving his way. Brian smiled and shook his head, trying to act like his heart wasn’t racing and his stomach hadn’t dropped to his boots. “Better keep back, Sarge,” he said, keeping his tone carefree. “I think there’s an IED in the rocks beside me, and Benny spotted movement at your three o’clock.”

The sergeant’s gaze betrayed his concern. “We have his buddies chained in a line. Maybe he actually gives a shit about them. How about you move forward, Cobb? Sanders,” he said, calling out to Benny, giving them both a strained smile. “You move, too. Get his friends between you and him. But move slow and natural. Don’t let him know we know he’s there.”

Although every one of the squad members was aware of the threat, they began to patter.

“Man, I can’t wait to get back to my bunk. Mama sent brownies. Got a few left.”

“No, you don’t, Packer. I snuck the last one when you were showering.”

“Shithead, you better not have.”

“Hey, Tessa,” Jamie called to her dog, indicating with a finger toward the ground that Tessa should move back to her side.

The dog ran back, turned in a neat circle, and sat beside her feet. Jamie’s gaze went to Brian. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her gaze shifted toward the rocks as she said, “Brian, you and I have a rematch to play against Pike and Sherman. Better hurry your ass up.”

Brian gave her a crooked grin, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

A shot sounded, and Benny dropped to his knees, his head sagging toward his chest.

Brian took another step, but sound exploded then went suddenly muffled. He felt something hammer against his lower body, felt searing pain, then he was flying, everything moving in slow motion, clumps of dirt and flares of fire, tumbling head over heels until he dropped with a sickening thud on the trail.

He couldn’t hear voices, but he saw movement—Sergeant Milligan pointing toward the hill and signaling for two men to move out and engage with the sniper; Pike kneeling beside Benny, who still knelt on his knees, blood gurgling from his chest.

Jamie’s face entered his vision. Tears filled her eyes.

“I’m okay,” he shouted, then pointed at his ears. “Can’t hear though. And I’m feelin’ a little…dizzy.” Okay, a lot, but he didn’t want to worry her.

Sergeant Milligan knelt beside Jamie, talking into his radio. Someone else moved to the opposite side of him…Kinsey, the medic. His back was to Brian as he leaned over his body.

Brian tried to get up on his elbows to tell him the problem wasn’t with his legs; it was with his head. He couldn’t hear, but then he glanced downward, past Kinsey.

His boots were gone. Then he realized…so were the feet that had been sweating inside them.

He drew a deep breath and glanced up at Jamie.

She was mouthing words he couldn’t hear, cupping his cheeks. When she bent and kissed his cheek, he knew he was dead. “I’m not fucking dying,” he tried to shout, but he knew it came out a whisper because he was weakening, barely able to keep his eyes open.

The wind pulsed against his face, and he opened his eyes, saw the helicopter above, a fiery trail of rounds blasting toward the hill before it wobbled in the air then settled on the sand beside the trail.

He raised a hand to point toward Benny. “Him first,” he said, glancing sideways, but Benny was no longer kneeling. He lay with his eyes open, staring up at the cloudless blue sky.

Kinsey moved away, and Brian glanced down. Tourniquets were on his legs, below his knees. He glanced at Jamie. “They find my boots?”

Her face crumpled, and Tessa wiggled her way in between Jamie and Sergeant Milligan. Her tongue lapped at his cheek. Her cold, wet nose nuzzled his ear.

Any other time, he would have pushed her away, but Brian no longer had the strength. “Hey…they find my boots?”

UPDATE: The winners are…Pansy Petal, Laura, and Debra Guyette!
*~*~*

I’m hard at work on Brian, the next installment if my Montana Bounty Hunters series, which releases on February 24th! Time is getting away from me! Seems I’m always running up against a deadline!

I can’t wait for you to read Brian’s story. I’ve had so many requests for his Happy Ever After, and I think you’ll love it. The man has issues, of course, but the heroine of the story isn’t letting him retreat from life or love. Raydeen is a strong, feisty heroine! Of course, along the way, you’ll see the other characters you’ve loved in this series.

In the meantime, catch up on the series as you get ready to enjoy Brian and Raydeen’s great adventure. If you haven’t already pre-ordered your copy of Brian’s story, here’s the link: Pre-Order Brian!

Enjoy reading an excerpt from another story in the series, Cochise. I loved, loved, loved writing his story! He’s a sexy, sexy man! You’ll see!

Cochise

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

“Excellent… Cochise (Book 4) was exciting, fast-paced, scary, filled with plot twists, & with humorous moments… The bonus material, The Bounty Part, 2 was also A+++.”

A hunt deep in a national forest forges bonds between a bounty hunter and a woman desperate to find her sister

Former Army sniper, Cochise Mercier, left Denver SWAT under a cloud of controversy, which was why he ended up back home in Montana, and where he heard about the Montana Bounty Hunters. The “cloud” didn’t seem to bother his new boss, so he’s all in and finding he enjoys hunting down fugitives for bounties, encumbered by fewer rules.

Sammy McCallister is a by-the-book sheriff’s deputy, who has a beef with bounty hunters. Forced to stand by with her gun in her holster, while hunters take down scumbags, she’s particularly irked by the new guy in town. Cochise, with his long black hair and thousand-yard-stare makes her uncomfortable, itchy in ways she’s never felt before. When she finds herself needing his help, the reason for her irritation becomes all too clear. She wants him. But first, they must make it out of the mountains alive…

Contest

Are you all caught up reading the Montana Bounty Hunters?

For a chance to win a download of one of the stories you may have missed
(I’ll pick three winners!), tell me this:
Do you love stories like this set in the wilds of Montana?
Or is there another state you’d love to see some sexy bounty hunters?

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Reaper: https://amzn.to/2NztLpv
Dagger: https://amzn.to/2zo6Dav
Reaper’s Ride: https://amzn.to/2KKkisI
Cochise: https://amzn.to/2zq4avV
Hook: https://amzn.to/2UrpyYh
Wolf: https://amzn.to/2yUTjr5
Animal: https://amzn.to/2H4Roob
Big Sky Wedding: https://amzn.to/33GprwK
Quincy: https://amzn.to/2QlleM8

Excerpt from Cochise…

He grimaced and reached to secure his belt. Then he settled back against his door again. The better to scope out Officer McCallister. “Name’s Cochise Mercier,” he said, deciding someone needed to be polite.

“I know who you are.”

And he waited. When she didn’t reciprocate with an introduction, he cleared his throat. “I haven’t been in Bear Lodge that long, but you know who I am…”

Her gaze went to her rearview mirror than back to the windshield. “Sheriff likes to keep tabs on everyone working at MBH.” She shot him a quick glance. “You were with Denver SWAT. Must have fucked up bad to wind up here.”

He barely suppressed a grunt of surprise at her blunt words. But he had fucked up. Still, he wasn’t unhappy about the change of place or pace of his current circumstances. A man could breathe here—crisp mountain air, without the traffic and mass of humanity. “Yeah,” he said, not willing to get into it with a woman who seemed ready to pick a fight. “Something like that.”

“Should have applied for a patrol job. Sheriff’s always looking for officers with experience. He’d overlook a lot.”

“Thanks for the suggestion, but I like what I’m doing now, and the money’s better.”

Again, her gaze cut his way, and that frown dug a line between her eyes.

“You don’t like bounty hunters.”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to.” He eyed her profile—stubborn chin, cute nose, freckles on her pale cheeks. Her hair was a dark blonde with glints of red as the dawn’s light struck it. Her body was sturdy—not too slim, muscled. He doubted she’d like that description, but he liked a strong woman. “You got a first name, Officer McCallister?” he asked, still watching her and knowing he was making her a little uncomfortable, because her eyebrows remained lowered.

Or maybe that was her permanent expression.

Again, his mouth twitched.

“Samantha.”

“Sammy,” he drawled.

“My friends call me Sammy.”

This time, he let the smile creep across his mouth.

Just as they were nearing the turn that would take them to the agency, a car pulled out from a side street, nearly clipping the squad car.

Officer McCallister hit the brakes then cussed under her breath.

He knew the feeling. This close to ending a shift and some asshole forces a decision.

When the blue Taurus swerved into the center of the road, she sighed and reached for the toggle, turning on her blue lights.

The car indicated to the right and pulled onto the shoulder of the road.

“Stay in the car,” she said, not looking toward Cochise.

He watched with interest as she approached the vehicle, keeping at a safe angle as she neared the car. She reached for the radio on her shoulder. “Dispatch, I need you to run a plate.” She gave the dispatcher the plate information while he listened to the radio inside the car.

A few seconds later, dispatch responded. “The car’s registered to Loretta Mackinaw. She has an outstanding warrant for possession of a controlled substance.”

The officer’s body tensed.

Cochise rolled down his window to listen as she shouted for the driver to put her hands on the dash.

The first hint there was trouble was Officer McCallister flicking the strap on her holster and drawing her gun. A shot rang out, and she dove beside the car.

Cochise slid across the bench, lifting his legs to get past the equipment blocking his way, and settled into the driver’s seat just as the Taurus pulled out onto the road, a black cloud gusting from the exhaust pipe.

Putting the squad car in drive, he pulled up beside the officer and shouted through the open window, “Get in!”

She didn’t argue, sliding into the passenger side seat, flipping on the siren, and reaching for the radio. “Dispatch. Shots fired. I’m in pursuit of that blue Taurus.” She gave her location while Cochise concentrated on keeping on Mackinaw’s tail.

“You okay?” he asked, not taking his gaze off the car ahead.

“Missed me. Not that she meant to.”

They passed the outskirts of town and entered the open highway.

“Just thirty fucking minutes,” she muttered.

“How long do we follow?” he asked, wondering if they’d run up against the county line and pass the problem to the next jurisdiction.

“There’s a crossroads up ahead. Open. No trees or buildings. Think you can get close enough to perform a PIT maneuver?” She cussed again. “Goddamn, I should be behind the wheel. Sheriff’ll have my ass.”

He grinned and gunned the accelerator, closing the distance between the vehicles. Further down the road, he saw the crossroads, no other vehicles in sight.

“Let’s do it.”

Another punch of gas, and he pulled into the left lane. Coming even with the left rear wheel of the Taurus, he turned into the car, giving it a solid slam. The Taurus began to spin left, and Cochise braked, slowing the car to watch as the Taurus continued its spin and took out the stop sign across the intersection before coming to a halt. The driver faced them through the windshield.

All Cochise saw was frizzy mud-brown hair and a red face.

Officer McCallister toggled the loudspeaker and raised her mic. “Loretta, put your hands on the dashboard.”

The woman complied, although her frown didn’t abate.

Officer McCallister gave him a quick glance. “There’s a rifle in the trunk. Key’s on the ring.”

He gave a nod, turned off the engine, and let himself out of the car, making sure to keep the driver’s side door open as a shield. He retrieved the rifle and returned, crouching behind the door. He glanced across the empty seat to where the female officer stood, crouching behind her open door. She finished calling in a request for backup, and then her gaze met his across the expanse.

“Whatever move you want to make,” he said, “I have your back.”

If you’re not on Facebook, then you will have missed my cover reveal for the next SEALs in Paradise: Hot SEAL, Wedding Edition story! This is the third year I and a group of fabulous authors have written stories in our connected SEALs in Paradise series. If you recall, my previous two entries were:

Cover Reveal!

On May 19th, my third story releases! Here’s the cover!
Isn’t it romantic?

But don’t worry. I haven’t gone completely soft. Here’s what the story’s really about…

A former Navy SEAL is teamed with his nemesis to provide protection for a Greek tycoon’s bridezilla daughter to make sure the bride gets safely to her destination wedding.

Of course, there will be danger, action, plenty of sexy bits shared, and humor. I can’t write a book these days that doesn’t have a bit of humor, and as much as I detest wedding stories (I know, what romance author doesn’t love to write them?), I won’t be able to resist imbuing my heroine with my wedding-allergy. However, I do promise to deliver all the feelz!

So, you know you have to get this book lined up for download, right? You don’t want to forget all about it come May 19, 2020!

So, pre-order it now!

AMZ: https://amzn.to/36Ks291
APPLE: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1497210586
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-decoy-bride-delilah-devlin/1136286286
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-decoy-bride

Here’s the rest of the Wedding Edition stories…

While you’re ordering mine, you might also want to check out the other authors’ stories in the Wedding Edition series…

Hot SEAL, Bachelor Party by Elle James
Amazon: http://bit.ly/BPHSBPAMZ
iBooks: http://bit.ly/BPHSBPAPPLE
Nook: http://bit.ly/BPHSBPNOOK
Kobo: http://bit.ly/BPHSBPKOBO

Hot SEAL, Decoy Bride by Delilah Devlin
Amazon: https://amzn.to/36Ks291
APPLE: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1497210586
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-decoy-bride-delilah-devlin/1136286286
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-decoy-bride

Hot SEAL, Runaway Bride by Cat Johnson
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hot-SEAL-Runaway-Bride-Romantic-ebook/dp/B07XB3J3QJ/
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hot-seal-runaway-bride/id1462469622
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-runaway-bride-cat-johnson/1132250756?ean=2940161402375
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-runaway-bride

Hot SEAL, Cold Feet by Becca Jameson
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B084D76SXM/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i31
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-cold-feet
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-cold-feet-becca-jameson/1136295939?ean=2940163059751
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hot-seal-cold-feet/id1497397358

Hot SEAL, Best Man by Parker Kincade
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2uTjL5m
Apple: https://smarturl.it/HSBMAPPLE
Barnes & Noble: https://smarturl.it/HSBMBN
Kobo: https://smarturl.it/HSBMKOBO

Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor by Cynthia D’Alba
Amazon: https://amzn.to/37L3U7B
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-confirmed-bachelor
books2read.com: https://books2read.com/u/bpOKgk (THIS ONE LINKS TO ALL OF THEM)
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w?ean=2940163031887
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hot-seal-confirmed-bachelor/id1497356729

Hot SEAL, Taking the Plunge by Teresa Reasor
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3b0zv7i
Apple: https://apple.co/2UiSZxV
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2UgX0TR
B and N: http://bit.ly/2RPwteo

Hot SEAL, Undercover Groom by MaryAnn Jordan
Amazon: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSAmazon
Apple: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSApple
Kobo: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSKobo
Nook: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSNook

When you’ve been writing as long as I have, you can have a rather large backlist of books. I’ve got a huge backlist! And yet, my new converts (er, readers) have likely never heard of them.

A case in point is a trilogy I wrote and published, um, six years ago? I think. It’s when I first began toying with writing series based around military heroes. I’d done cowboys and vampires, but military heroes? I thought I’d be bored, after all, I lived that life. You know, I was a veteran… I worked with these cocky bastards. I’m over lusting after men in uniforms, right? (Never, actually. Ever.)

The series never sold well. And I knew what the issue was. I named the series after the travel agency my three heroines ran rather than putting the focus on the story. These were sexy thrillers. Couples were chased through the jungle by a drug cartel, dropped to the ocean floor in a shark cage with one tank of air, and stranded on a desert island.

So, when I was thinking maybe I needed to brush off this old series, because, hey, I loved it—action, sexiness, and humor abound—I decided to give the stories new covers, the series a new name, and to give the books another brush of editing to make them even more perfect.

So, here’s the new lineup. All pretty, sexy and flashy. Plus, I’ve placed the first book in the series, Dangerous Liaisons, on sale for just $0.99! So, if you’re looking for something to read this weekend, I have just the thing—and did I mention that the stories are very, very sexy? 🙂

Enter the Danger Zone!!

Dangerous Liaisons
On Sale for $0.99!

A pampered travel agent, roughing it at an anti-terrorist training school, escapes through the jungle with an undercover DEA agent when a drug lord mistakes her for a rival’s daughter…

After surviving a week of anti-terrorist training at a school deep in a Central American jungle, learning evasive driving techniques she’s sure will help her negotiate Chicago’s rush hour traffic, Maya Cordoba is ready to kick off the mud from her designer boots and find a Starbucks—or the closest cantina serving cosmopolitans—after she hijacks her sexy driving instructor. Instead, she finds herself staring down the barrel of an AK-47 (which she recognizes from her weapons familiarization class, thank you very much!), and being ordered in incomprehensible Spanish into a SUV. She’s being kidnapped! When she figures out she’s been mistaken for the daughter of a rival drug lord, it’s too late. If they learn she’s not who they think she is—she’s dead.

Rescue comes from ex-marine and mercenary/now driving instructor, Angel Rickman, who just so happens to be among the kidnappers. He says he’s really undercover DEA and he’ll take her out, but she has to do everything he tells her to, no balking. Together, they make a mad dash through the jungle, borrowing a cocaine-laden boat, with the drug cartel’s army on their tails every step of the way.

Get your copy here!

Mutiny’s Bounty

A former Navy SEAL races to rescue the passengers aboard a luxury yacht after it’s captured by pirates, but first, he has to rescue the woman he’s trapped with inside a shark cage on the ocean floor…

Interested only in experiencing an adrenaline-packed adventure first-hand to give her credo when she books her clients’ adventure vacations, Lace McElhannon finds more excitement than she can handle when she meets and falls into bed with ex-SEAL Dex Haygood.

Fresh from protecting transport ships from Somali pirates, Dex figures his latest job will be a cakewalk, until he finds himself in deep water, swimming with sharks and trying to protect Lace when the yacht they’re sailing on is taken.

Get your copy here!

It Takes a SEAL

A travel agent visiting friends in the Bahamas is stranded on a desert island with a sexy ex-SEAL after their private pleasure cruise is interrupted by men who mistake her lover for a reclusive billionaire.

When Susan heads to the Bahamas, she thinks the sexiest part of the trip is that she can count it as a tax deduction. After all, her agency has new offices in Miami and the Bahamas, and she needs face-time with her partners, who also just happen to be her best friends.

However, her plans for a working vacation, emphasis on work, go quickly awry when she meets ex-SEAL now security specialist, Justin Walsh. His lead-footed, fast-talking ways creep beneath her cool reserve and make her yearn for the kind of relationships her besties have with their ex-military husbands.

When his billionaire employer comes under possible threat, the ever-crafty Justin organizes an op that will kill two birds with one stone. He’ll pose as his employer aboard his luxury yacht while he woos the woman who stole his heart from the first moment he met her.

However, even best laid plans have their hiccups. When Justin and Susan are stranded on a desert island, it’s up to Justin to keep them safe while he orchestrates the ultimate seduction.

Get your copy here!

The new year is a time of renewal, of new beginnings. We all feel it. Packing away after the holiday is a great time to start fresh.

Most people make resolutions that usually fall away within a few weeks. I know I’ve done it. The problem isn’t the resolutions but trying to make huge changes. Face it, we all love routines, me more than most. Change is not my friend. So trying to make a big one right in the middle of the cold, dark winter is not going to work. To get past that, I started making small changes, nothing that would upset my routine too much, but over the long year makes a difference.

This year, my big challenge is my health and that starts with sugar. I do love my sweets. Surprisingly enough, I have more of a sugar craving now than I did when I was younger. I blame menopause. I’ve taken to eating 95% dark chocolate. (My family gave me a lot for Christmas, so I’m stocked up for a while.) I love it and it fills the craving with hardly any sugar. Plus, it has antioxidants, which are good for me. At least, that’s my story.

It’s a small change, but one I’m hoping will yield results over the course of a year. I’m trying to work little bits of exercise into my routine as well. It all helps.

What are your resolutions this year?

Naughty Heroes: In and Out of Uniform

If you’re looking for something to heat up the cold winter nights, be sure to check out NAUGHTY HEROES: In and Out of Uniform—A collection of UNFORGETTABLE HEROES!

MARINE ON A MISSION
N.J. Walters

When Mitch McCoy left rural Kentucky to join the U.S. Marines he never thought he’d return. Now he’s undercover with a state drug task force. He’s not only facing his past, but also Sara Hawkins, the woman who broke his heart. This investigation will risk their lives and their hearts.

SEX BOMB
Nicole Austin

From first sight I knew Marine Lieutenant Harlie Savage wasn’t fragile like a flower—she was fragile like a bomb. Definitely not some princess who needed to be saved, either. She was a queen who only lacked a sword, and I vowed to be her weapon.

HER SOLDIER OF FORTUNE
Belle Scarlett

Leia has no idea who ex-Marine Major Tate McIntyre is when he saves her life in a dark alley. Yet Tate’s certain Leia is his to have, hold, and protect. He vows to keep her safe at any cost. His only price is her heart. Semper Fi!

THE NIGHT WATCHMAN
Katherine Kingston

A disabled vet rescues a woman on a mission to collect evidence, saving her from the men chasing her. As Jace and Shannon race to survive and outwit a traitor, a deep connection grows between them. But staying alive long enough to explore the attraction will take everything they’ve got.

MILITARY BLUES
Elizabeth Lapthorne

Luke is struggling to recover from a career shattering IED blast that sees him permanently discharged. Milly’s career self-destructed and she’s moved cities in the hopes of starting again. Can this new life and new relationship be a second chance for them both?

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07Z29RCY1/
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/1134068523
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/naughty-heroes
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1483388473
Universal: https://books2read.com/u/b5QgqA

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:
Website: http://www.njwalters.com
Blog: http://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Sign Up: http://eepurl.com/gdblg5
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

I am so excited to be guest blogger on Delilah Devlin’s blog today. Thanks to you, Delilah, for all the time and work you exert to promote other authors’ work. It’s really fun to be here right now, during the holidays. I hope all of you are enjoying the preparations for celebrating your traditions.

Speaking of holidays, when I was a little girl, one of the most beloved traditions in our house was the way in which we were awakened on Christmas Day. It didn’t take me long to learn that my Daddy was the biggest kid of all. As long as I can remember, he always woke up first on Christmas Day. He’d put the coffee on, but when he’d start cooking breakfast, which he did every morning so my Mom could sleep a little longer, he’d suddenly have trouble. Pots and pans would rattle, cabinet doors would bang, and plates and cups would sound as though they were about to break. He was trying to wake us up so we could all run into the den together to see what Santa Claus had brought us.

Now, my brothers and I have our own families and our own holiday traditions, but sometimes I wake up early on Christmas morning and I think I can hear Daddy rattling pots and pans, hoping to wake my brothers and me, so we can enjoy finding what Santa Claus brought us—and he can enjoy watching us.

I have never lost that excitement I got from my dad, about Christmas morning. Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I love everything about it, from the glitter and sparkle, to the spirituality. So naturally, I love Christmas stories, both reading and writing them, and by the way, Christmas movies too.

This year, I’m excited to have a new indie Christmas novella in 23,000 words, Christmas Bodyguard. I wrote it using my favorite Christmas theme—no room at the inn. The story is about a police detective who hates Christmas and a young pregnant widow who’s about to give birth and is determined to give Christmas to her brand new baby.

Christmas Bodyguard

Detective Trevor Atkins has good reason to hate Christmas. On Christmas Eve four years ago, his pregnant wife fell and lost their baby. Now divorced, Trevor deals with Christmas the only way he can, by ignoring it. When he is assigned to guard a widow who is the only surviving victim of a suspected serial killer, he expects just another assignment. But when Trevor arrives, he is stunned. This may be the hardest assignment he’s ever faced. The widow is kind, beautiful and very, very pregnant. And she’s putting up Christmas decorations all over the safe house.

Merry Randolph takes her joy where she can find it. She lost her new husband in a tragic helicopter crash only weeks into her pregnancy, and then she survived an attack from the notorious Widow Killer. Merry is determined to have a real Christmas for her family—herself and her unborn child—even if her stubbornly sexy police bodyguard doesn’t want any part of it.

When an ice storm hits and Merry’s contractions start, they are forced to leave the safe house and enter a tightening web of danger. Trevor must face his heartbreak and loss, and Merry must trust her life to a stranger who is only doing his job if she wants to survive to see her baby born on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Bodyguard Excerpt:

Police Detective Trevor Atkins jabbed at another button on the radio, muttering curses under his breath. It was Christmas Eve. Even the rock station was playing Christmas music. He switched it off. He was nearly at his destination anyway.

He exited the interstate two hours north of Atlanta, onto a two-lane road, headed toward the precinct’s safe house. His eyes skimmed over a couple of houses sporting Christmas decorations and lights, trying to ignore the rising rhythm of his pulse and the worm of sadness that gnawed at his heart.

Damn, he hated Christmas.

Ten minutes later, he turned onto the street where the safe house was located. It was an isolated neighborhood, perfect for safely hiding a witness away from someone who might harm her. The street looked as though the developer had gone bankrupt in the middle of the project. There were only a few other houses completed, and those appeared deserted. They still had stickers on the windows and fill dirt where the lawns should have been. The only sign of life was a Randolph and Ducharmes delivery truck that passed him going the opposite direction. He eyed it in his rearview mirror. That could hardly be a coincidence.

The witness’s family owned the upscale department stores. He reached for his cell phone and called his boss.

“Captain, what’s up? An R&D delivery truck just passed me, coming from the safe house.”

The captain sighed. “The perils of babysitting the rich and famous. Apparently, Mrs. Randolph needed a few things. Don’t worry, Trevor. Sims rode shotgun. The delivery was legit.”

“Legit? Maybe, but it was also very visible.”

“The mayor’s office called me. Think I had any choice?”

Trevor pocketed his phone and arched his neck to ease the tension. The holidays always increased his stress level, but he’d been glad to do a favor for a fellow detective by switching duty schedules with him. Stokes had a family. Christmas was important to him.

Guarding witnesses scheduled to testify was a boring task. The witnesses were usually consumed with worry about their testimony, and the most exciting event was likely to be a good ball game on TV. Guarding a spoiled heiress would up the annoyance factor slightly, but not beyond what Trevor could handle.

His charge, Merry Ducharmes Randolph, was the only surviving victim of the Widow Killer, a name given by the press to the elusive killer who had killed three widows within the past year.

But they’d only been able to charge Harry Bonner, Merry’s attacker, with attempted robbery and assault. As badly as the Atlanta Police Department wanted to solve the Widow Killer murders, they’d been unable to positively link Bonner to the other three women. He had no prior arrests, and he’d turned up no hits on either the DNA or fingerprint database.

Trevor parked his white pickup in the driveway of the nondescript house next to Detective Amanda Moss’s SUV. Turning up the collar of his jacket against the rapidly falling temperature, he started up the walk. Before he reached the porch, Detective Moss flung open the front door, causing the sleigh bells on the Christmas wreath to jangle. “Hi, Trevor,” she said, her breath turning to ice crystals as she spoke. “Nice to have you on the case. I’ve got to run if I’m going to finish wrapping the kids’ gifts.”

“Merry,” she called back over her shoulder, “this is Detective Atkins.”

Trevor nodded at Amanda, then stepped up to the front door and scowled toward the narrow strip of face visible between the door and the door facing. The single eye narrowed suspiciously. “Good morning, Mrs. Randolph. Like Detective Moss said, I’m your new day-shift detective,” he said dryly. “Replacing Roger Stokes. My name is Trevor Atkins.”

When the door finally opened wide, Trevor’s gaze ran slap into a pair of bright green eyes under a red Santa hat. Long, pale brown hair framed a heart-shaped face, and a full mouth showed a hint of white teeth above a determined chin.

The Santa hat stirred his knee-jerk aversion to anything connected with Christmas. He tried to force his expression to remain neutral as a faint pink glow lit the woman’s cheeks and a hesitant smile spread across her face. So, this was the widow. She was familiar, and not just from TV news spots about the attack she’d survived. He’d noticed those emerald-green eyes before.

He sighed. Wreath, bells, Santa hat? Great. Obviously, she loved Christmas. “You got word that I’m taking Detective Stokes’ place over Christmas eve and day ?”

“Yes.” She took a step backward, still hanging onto the door with one hand and a piece of red cloth in the other. “But Amanda will be back tonight, right?” The quaver in her voice matched the wariness in her eyes.

“That’s right. Detective Moss is still your night guard.”

A flicker of relief passed across her face. He’d seen that look before in assault victims. A fearful mistrust of men that, for some victims, never went away. He almost apologized for invading her privacy, then nearly laughed at himself. She didn’t know it yet, but there was no one on the planet safer for her to be with than he was. She was under his protection, and he would never violate her trust or risk her safety. She’d eventually figure that out and then she’d relax.

He stepped past her into the modest living room. The sight that greeted him almost knocked him to his knees. Every square inch of floor space was covered with Christmas. A sea of gold Randolph and Ducharmes bags full of ornaments flowed into dozens of red and pink poinsettias in brightly wrapped pots. To his left, a monstrous Christmas tree aglow with white twinkling lights almost blocked a large picture window. A staggering horror tightened his chest and streaked like electricity out to his fingers and toes. He felt the blood drain from his face. The smell of mulberry and cedar turned his stomach.

Images he’d banished to the dark side of his heart swirled around him—long bright corridors, sympathetic faces, the low soft lights of the hospital’s chapel. A sterile, quiet, sad room. Trevor squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never passed out in his life, but there was always a first time. Steadying himself with a hand on the back of the sofa, he sucked in a deep breath. “What the hell is all this?” he rasped when he could finally speak.

When he opened his eyes, Mrs. Randolph was standing behind a table, eyeing him the way a cornered mouse watched a cat. “I—I asked the store to send over some Christmas decorations. No one had—you know—” she gestured vaguely “—decorated the house.” Her voice rose and strengthened in the space of those few words.

“This is not a store window, Mrs. Randolph. It’s a safe house,” he said harshly.

She sniffed. “Oh please, Detective. It’s Christmas Eve.” She spread the red cloth over a table.

“So that’s what the truck was delivering.” His captain was a coward. He knew Trevor’s history. He could have warned him that it was a truck full of Christmas. Well, the stuff would just have to go back. He would not be subjected to Christmas. He’d taken this job to avoid the holiday and the tragic memories attached to it.

“Look, Mrs. Randolph, all this has got to go. We are not here for a party,” he said just as she stepped out from behind the table and he got his first good, head-to-toe look at the glowing woman in front of him.

“Oh, God—” His chest tightened and his head spun. He gripped the back of the couch more tightly and fought the surge of dizziness and gut-wrenching nausea that broadsided him.

“What?” Merry cried, her eyes widening. “What is it?”

“You’re pregnant!”

#

Confused, Merry Randolph stared at the detective’s chiseled features. His mouth was compressed so tightly the corners of his lips were white. What was his problem? She smiled.

“Of course I’m pregnant. How could you possibly not know?” Her every move had been chronicled by the media for the past seven months. “My husband’s helicopter accident, then the attack? I’ve been the favorite local news filler for the entire Atlanta area these past months.” She tasted the bitterness that darkened her voice.

Detective Atkins didn’t move a muscle. He just stood there, his face drained of color, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Detective, are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He wiped a hand over his face and shot her a hard glance, then turned away and shrugged out of his jacket. With his back to her, he didn’t seem quite so intimidating. She let out a breath of relief. Why couldn’t Detective Stokes have foregone Christmas Eve and Christmas morning to stay with her? She winced at her selfish thought. Of course she didn’t mean that. He deserved to spend Christmas with his family, even if his doting, fatherly disposition had made her feel completely safe and comfortable. Detective Atkins had been here less than five minutes and there was nothing remotely fatherly about him. He had a lean and hungry look, as though he could slay dragons.

She thought about what the captain and his lieutenant, and several other police officials, had told her over and over. We’re the good guys. We’ll keep you safe.
As Detective Atkins folded his jacket and lay it on the back of the sofa, she noticed the brown leather straps of a shoulder holster crisscrossing the black T-shirt he wore. His movements were spare and efficient as he adjusted the holster and checked his weapon. He angled his head as if he’d sensed her scrutiny, and then rounded on her. “Do you realize you may have compromised this safe house by having all this delivered?”

“What?” She recoiled at his cold tone.

“That R&D delivery truck might as well have sported a banner—This Way to the Witness.” He shook his head, his voice as cold as the wind outside.
Merry’s heart pounded and she bit her lip. She should have thought of that. But in her defense, this was the store’s busiest time of year. “Randolph and Ducharmes has trucks making deliveries all over the city.”

The detective shot her a disgusted look. “Not in abandoned neighborhoods.”

She had no response for that.

“I’m here to protect you from a suspected killer, not deal with a house full of Christmas—” He bit off the end of the sentence.

Frustration and a deep sadness burned in Merry’s stomach, until, by force of will, she bullied those feelings into determination. She’d never had a real, homey Christmas. Not once. Her parents were nationally renowned philanthropists who had spent their married life traveling the world to work with their own and others’ charitable ventures. This year, as every year, they’d found as much to do during the holidays as during any other time of year. For most of their twin daughters’ lives, Merry and Christy had traveled with them, tutors in tow. Now Christy, whose full name was Christmas , was a runway model and almost never had time to come home to Atlanta, except on business.

As bad as this entire year had been, Merry was determined to end the year the way she wanted. She might be locked up in a barely furnished house under police protection during the holidays, but no matter what else happened, she planned to spend Christmas surrounded by beautiful decorations.

“Detective, I could not possibly be more aware of how serious my situation is. A man who may be a serial killer is out on bail pending his trial, and he knows I can identify him.” She lifted her chin. “I can see in your face what you think of me. But if I stay in this house, it will be decorated for Christmas. This past year has been the worst of my life.” To her utter dismay, she felt a tear spill over and drip down her cheek. “I lost my husband, I was almost murdered, and now I’m spending the holidays in an ugly house located who knows where and unable to see my family. I will have Christmas decorations!”

She swiped the tear away. Her little guy was sure playing havoc with her hormones, but she would not cry in front of Scrooge McCop. She turned her back and picked up a crystal ornament from one of the bags. “I apologize if guarding me is keeping you from Christmas with your wife and children,” she said as she stretched to hang the ornament.

He sucked in a long breath. Her shoulders tensed.

“You’re not keeping me from anything. I’m divorced. I don’t have chil—” He practically choked on the word “children.” She turned and caught a haunting sadness clouding his eyes. His sadness pierced her heart like an arrow. She’d unwittingly tapped into a private place inside him, a place she was sure no one ever saw.

With a flash of insight, she realized that Detective Atkins wasn’t just a Scrooge who hated the holidays. His gruff manner hid a tragedy—a tragedy that centered around Christmas and children. His children?

(End of Excerpt)

Thanks again, to everyone. I would love to hear about your favorite childhood holiday tradition, if you’d like to post a comment. You can do that by clicking Say Something/Something Said, below. I hope you’ll consider picking up Christmas Bodyguard if you want a quick and heartwarming read for the holidays. You can find it, or any of my other books, by clicking one of the links below.

Christmas Bodyguard is available now at your favorite ebook retailer.
https://books2read.com/ChristmasBodyguard

Mallory Kane